(You Were Killing Me)
I was your cure and you were my disease, I was saving you but you were killing me.
wonder where you are.
Please don’t come around tonight
cause I can’t stand to see you and I don’t want to fight.
Gimme one more drink and I swear I think I’ll be ready
to make the same mistakes again with you.
“I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Read more
I so miss the smell of your hair, the way we just fit together, the way your skin felt like silk… life is a funny turned thing… you have a great deal of things you love one day and the next you have nothing but echoes and dust
I’ve not yet seen every city from a rooftop
or swam in dark seas
under many full moons.
I’ve not danced in all the streets,
I’ve hungered for
lost in crowds covered in bright fabrics
below southern suns
warming us with joy,
painting us all gold.
But I live in a body harboring an imagination
that stretches across time
and I know ecstasy exists
through imperfect flesh
and the softening within a stretch
or watching a mouth I crave
pronounce every vowel
in my name.
a girl doesn’t ignore
or forget a thing
Because I now realize
that to the primal skin
and most overflowing minds,
that the subtle things
and quiet things
are quite simply..
by: Victoria Erickson
“The warmth of his skin was familiar. Languid, I could drift for hours on the ocean of his flesh. Eyes gazed down at me, so kind and friendly. Like frosty windows on a cabin with a wood stove. These were the things I dreamed about. The things I was reminded of. The things I thought of at long stoplights while listening to S. Carey. This was what my being ached for…”
~Taylor Rhodes, Sixteenth Notes: The Breaking of the Rose-Colored Glasses
Image: “The Science of Missing You” Stasia B.
“She was too quiet, or she was too loud. She took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was too sensitive, or too cold-hearted. She hated with every fiber of her being, or loved with every piece of her heart. There was no in-between for her. It was either all or nothing. She wanted everything but settled for nothing.”
She left pieces of her
life behind her
to feel the
image: Found on scarflove.tumblr.com